


Safe Driver Discount

by WorldsFool



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Before The Project, Car Sex, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 06:04:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15357867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorldsFool/pseuds/WorldsFool
Summary: Staci's shock is choked and wrangled out of him as Rook leans over the console between them, hand itching on his thigh and tickling up towards the fly of his zipper. It's the middle of night and the road back to the station from downtown is a long one but that's still no excuse, even if he had been eyeing them up ever since Rook first signed on to the unit."Keep your eyes on the road, Pratt." He nearly swallows his tongue as they force their head down between his legs, fingers clattering at his belt buckle.This was going to be a long drive.





	Safe Driver Discount

Staci clings to the speed limit as his knuckles grip white at the steering wheel. He takes careful precaution to keep his vision from tunneling. His adam's apple bobbing from a heavy swallow, gut clenching and a cramp beginning to form down his leg from how tightly he has flexed his foot. At the sharp and pleasurable flop in his stomach he grinds a hiss between his teeth, sweat beading down the back of his neck as the temperature in the cruiser is suddenly too hot for the blowing AC to handle.

"Shouldn't be doing this." He mutters to himself, nearly flooring the gas pedal at the harsh suck delivered to his dick. He huffs, breaking into a whine as the hot pins of pleasure causes his eyes to nearly roll into the back of his head. "We should not be doing this." He states again trying to convince himself, to will himself to push his colleague away. Staci's current excuse for letting it go on this long is that he needs to keep both hands on the wheel.

He's been using that excuse for the past two miles.

Rook hums around their mouthful of cock, dragging their head back and forth as they awkwardly bend their body over the console, the angle makes their back twinge but it's all worth the effort to keep their lips and tongue attached to Staci Pratt's dick.

"Fuck, Rook." He whimpers, headlights catching the nearest exit sign and passing in a manner of seconds. Another five miles will be agonizing, compared to the time his colleague has already spent going down on him. "God...Shit." He pleads, fingers straining over the wheel. He tries not to blink, if he does he's worried he will just keep his eyes closed and on the dark highway they couldn't afford an accident.

Contrary; giving the activities currently being performed.

Rook rewards his soft sounds with a moan of their own, searching out with their free hand, the other keeping Staci's cock right where they want it, for Pratt's balls through the folds of his pants. Staci lets out a whimper, rocking his hips up just a fraction of the way before Rook's palm comes in contact with their target, fingers skittering against the soft flesh of his sack and begins massaging him.

Staci starts to break down into simple syllables, soft exclamations and grunts and has Rook smiling over the flesh in their mouth and tilting their head to take more. They achieve in sinking another sloppy inch before they hear and lurch as the engine is gunned down. Staci groans in whimpered apologizes as they pop off his dick, his foot pressing down the break to correct his slip up in composure.

"Pull over."

He doesn't need to be told twice, finding the nearest turn off and backing in. The rational part of his brain is having them look as though they are camping. The sex craving half of his brain is ushering him to grab the back of Rook's head and slamming their mouths together. Rook is palming for his seat-belt, unclicking the device and forced them to separate for the slip second in order to get the strap completely off before they attack each other once more, with clawed hands and wanting mouths. Staci bites their lip, groaning appreciatively as they bite back. The smallest sting and harsh suck has his breath hitch before he pats them on the thigh, turning his head down to pepper kisses along the collar of their neck and commanding a breathless whisper in their ear.

"Get in the back seat."

Rook practically swan dives over the center console, twisting their body to land ass end on the bench seat with perfect tens. They draw their long legs up and over the back, hands fishing their own belt lose with clicks and jangles. Staci has to climb behind more awkwardly, his dick bobbing with a sheen of spit as he fumbles before managing to haul himself over and into Rook's waiting arms. They had managed to get their belt off, toed one boot off and free one leg.

Staci groans in a haze as Rook recaptures his lips and takes on the task of unbutton his uniform for him. They then immediately ruck up the white tee he wears underneath, pressing their hands to the chiseled muscles he takes an hour each morning to keep. Then Rook digs in their fingernails and the pain zips immediately to his crotch, his dick flexing from its place pressed up against his partners bare leg.

From there it is simple for Rook to spin him around and guide him to rest his back against the side door, they adjust for his legs to stretch out on the bench. The Rook straddles his waist, one foot on the floor of the car and the opposite knee jammed between Staci's hip and the back seat. They angle just past his dick to sit on his knees and start to work their own buttons loose from their top.

Staci licks his lips, shaky hands at a loss over whether or not to help them or jerk himself off. His dick throbs as his partner tosses their shirt to the front seat and pulls the off the black tank top they wore underneath. At the sight of bare chest, Pratt leans forward as his mouth decides what to do for him. As he seals his lips over a nipple, his other hands come up to pitch at the other, rolling the little bead between his index and thumb and giving a tight squeeze. The reaction is a shambling moan of pleasure as one of Rooks hands brushes through his curls, nails scratching his scalp delightfully.

He has to stop when they re-angle themselves to slid against his dick, humping his shaft like a hormonal teenager would a pillow. When Rooks hand wraps around his cock once more, Staci stops thinking and cants his hips upwards, returning the small squeeze they give him by going for a nip to their left tit.

"Your such a jerk, Staci." Is their response, accentuating the fact with a heartfelt tug at his shaft.

"This was your idea." He reminds.

Rook laughs and leans down to kiss him on the lips once more, tongues clashing as they continue to bump and grind against him, never letting him slip in but teasing him with the idea just enough that he considers taking the reigns and full on thrusting himself inside. He side tracks himself with grabbing Rook by the back of their head and pulling them away, forcing their neck to arch as he drags his teeth down their throat. Biting and sucking away to leave some kind of mark, he doesn't think to leave them somewhere the collar won't show.

Rook gives out a gargled moan and slowly starts to stroke him, giving a hard tug every time his sucks grow powerful. He takes this chance to leave as many dark bruises as he in kind, is rewarded for each one. His other hand trails down Rook's chest, lathing his fingers with their shared precum before searching out their entrance. He only manages the first knuckle of a single finger before Rook gives a impatient groan and sinks themselves down over the digit, a heated choke of regret quickly lost as they begin to shift and rock their hips.

"More." Staci laughs, drawing a second finger to join the first at the opportunity that Rook cants upwards just enough to give him room. "Fuck...Staci." Hearing them moan his name causes a cold tumble to rocket up and down his spine, making the hairs of his head feel as though they were standing on end and his bones feel as light as helium.

When they beg for another finger too soon after the second in is when Staci elects to take it slow, giving them only a second more time to adjust but it has Rook snarling like a wild cougar. They grab him one handed by the shoulder and force him back, gripping his dick like he had been the steering wheel and causes him to wince.

"Don't be a prat, Pratt." He makes a face at the turn of phrase and allows his eyes to widen as they remove his hand from their heat and position themselves above him. Staci has to stammer for them to wait, awkwardly searching through the back of his pants for his wallet and drawing out a condom. Rook makes a face, commenting about the lastability of a rubber being in same place as dirty money but it's quickly broken as Staci grabs them by the hips and sinks them down, just as he jerks his hips up and into them.

It's a tight...tight fit that has stars exploding in his vision, breath catching in his throat before letting out in a long drawn moan.

Rook is in a similar state of mess, hands catching his shoulders and nails digging deep down into his skin. He feels the fabric of his body rip a little at the seams, a wet track starting to dribble down his back. He winces, apologizes on his lips and devoured as Rook leans back down and shuts him up with a hungry kiss. The brief hold of breath is broken as they start to slowly lift and then settle back down on top of him.

From there, the rhythm is a steady and climbing tempo, like the beat to one of his favorite songs on the radio. Their hair bobs from the gravity of each bounce and the car starts to feel constricting in terms of air. Staci groans, letting his head lean back to hit the window, one hand coming up to lay over Rook's hip as they thrust atop of him, skin clapping against his as the built up sweat starts to turn them into instruments of debauchery.

As the pleasure races through him like a derby horse, Pratt starts to make noises again. He whines, moans, chokes and pitches as he begins to feel a coil settle in his stomach. Likewise Rook's pace is beginning to falter, slowing down from the taxing position. Staci pants, slapping them gently on the hip before grabbing their outstretched leg and turning them to rest where he has been sitting. They shove their hand up to grab at the backrest, teeth nibbling the pink of their lips as Staci sheathes himself and picks back up the steady pace, his thrusts turning rich and slow as his lower back thanks him for the change in position.

The heavy smell of sex has Pratt briefly wondering if the squad car would stay like this, soaked in the flavor of their intense fucking. The idea was gratifying in a gross way, never would he be able to drive this cruiser again without popping some firm wood to the memory of taking them in the back seat, fucking them, getting them to cum around his cock. He trembles, having to stop his hips from cumming too early, it was still too soon.

Rook's pleas and broken moans otherwise just have him adjusting his grip, bracing his hand to the back of the passenger's headrest, another to link his fingers in cage of the car. Spread out above them, Staci takes a deep, pursing lip of a breath and gave a hard roll of his hips, as deep as he could go.

A smirk breaks free from his mouth as their face lights up; color filling their cheeks a hot pink and eyes tearing up with a damp sheen. The tight, quivering lip of a smile they give him is enough to have him repeat the motion.

"Yesss, fuck me Staci."

Fucking this way felt more intimate, whether it be because he was in control and could see from above them or because of the way they slipped a palm around the back of his head, tugging his curls and pulling him down. Staci eagerly opened his lips against their own, in rapture of the slippery heat of their mouth, matched to the one around his cock.

The angle pushes him deeper and he excitedly threw his hips up further, earning a moan each time. As their teeth caught the bottom of his lip, Staci found himself snarling without meaning and shoving closer. His balls throb to the tight pinched response they sound, head shaking back and forth as they kicked their legs up, one hand adjusting to join his on the fencing, tangling their fingers over his own.

"Harder, Staci. Fuck me harder." And fuck him if he didn't try, picking up his pace and snarling like a kicked dog as he picks his hips up only to shove them back down, over and over. The car begins to rock; tires digging into the gravel with each thrust, sending the shocks into rocking back and forth. The realization that his own headboard back at home would be slamming into the wall has a bubble of hysteria work out his throat.

Staci readjusted his hand from the headrest to the window, nearly slipping as their shared body heat and exercise had managed to fog the windows. He starts to grin, bending in closer to take the scream off of Rook's lips as Staci feels their walls trembling, his thrusting a mindless goal to press them as deep into the leather seats as possible. He sucks on their tongue, shuddering at the tight and merciless clenching their walls flutter around him, attempting to milk him for every drop that he's yet to spring.

It's not until Rook turns his head to the side and chomps down on his neck that his balls tightened. The high-tension wire in his abdomen snapped and thrusting deep into them he unloaded everything he had with a manic smile.

"So good." They manage to say into his skin, tonguing the mark they had left just above his collar. "So good, Staci." He shudders as liquid euphoria runs out of him, groaning in release as Rook lazily wraps their legs around him and keeps him close. They paw their fingers through his hair, pushing his bangs out of his eyes as he pants deep gulps of air.

Not even a month and he's managed to fuck the new probie in the back seat of a cruiser. He shakes his head, leaning down to settle his forehead on their collarbone.

Well, in his defense; they started it.


End file.
